Seeing Him
by emn1936
Summary: “I don’t want you to stay because of him,” she breathed. “I just want you.”
1. Chapter 1

Seeing Him

emn1936

Chapter One

Nyota Uhura stepped through the doors of the crew lounge and swept her gaze over the small crowd gathered within. Off-duty crewmembers lounged at tables and on comfortable chairs and sofas scattered throughout the room and the low buzz of dozens of conversations filled the air.

Her gaze landed on Commander Spock who was standing in a corner of the room near the large observation window. His hands were folded neatly behind his back as he shared a quiet conversation with a young female Vulcan scientist who was visiting the _Enterprise_ to gather and bring back to the new Vulcan colony samples of plant-life similar to those which had grown indigenously on Vulcan.

Uhura felt a tightening in her throat as she watched Spock lean almost imperceptibly closer to the young scientist, his whole being intent and focused in the way he used to be with her. She had been in agreement with him when he had proposed to her that their relationship was unlikely to last, so she was surprised to feel a twinge of hurt at the sight of him having seemingly found a new focus for his interest. She supposed Spock would find it very _human_ that, despite the fact that their relationship had been over for a couple of months, she would feel pain and regret in the knowledge that her former lover had moved on with his life and was no longer pining for what once was.

She gave herself a small shake and sternly reminded herself that she had an interesting and challenging life with work and friends who fulfilled her. Casting her gaze around the room again, she squared her shoulders and strode determinedly into the lounge. She made her rounds, stopping to say hello to co-workers and share a smile and a few words with friends, all the while circling towards her targeted corner of the room. She sank gracefully into the cushions of a sofa tucked along with a few matching chairs into a quiet nook at the far end of the room and smiled at the others already gathered there.

"What's up, Doc?" She suppressed a smile at the expression that automatically crossed Leonard McCoy's face. Her greeting and his patented scowl in response had become a daily fixture in their lives in the almost ten months they had served together and though he pretended grouchiness, Uhura knew that he enjoyed their exchanges as much as she.

Jim Kirk rolled his head against the back of the sofa, his enjoyment of their antics evident in the lazy smile that curved his lips.

"Lieutenant," he greeted his grave tone at odds with the merriment in his eyes.

"Captain." She dipped her chin in mock-solemn deference. She flashed him a quick grin then turned to young man who had stopped near their group at her arrival.

"I'll have whatever he's having," she said, inclining her head towards the drink in Kirk's hand.

She sipped her beer and allowed the genial banter between the two men to relax her as she spent a pleasant hour or more talking with them about anything and nothing. That she – a woman who enjoyed order and structure - had come to enjoy the company of the irascible doctor and irrepressible captain continued to surprise her, but their easy-going friendship and the manner in which they opened that friendship to include others was a powerful magnet.

And if her gaze had been drawn on occasion to the third party of their triumvirate and his companion, she congratulated herself on masking it with a pretended interest in the general goings on of various people in the lounge. But when they left together, it was all she could do to feign disinterest.

"Are you alright?"

Uhura turned to her captain. Unnerved by the look of concern and understanding on his face, she turned the full wattage of her smile on him.

"I'm great," she said. She made a show out of looking at the chronometer on the wall. "But it's getting late and as you know, I'm due on the bridge at 0800, so…" She set her empty glass on a table and rose. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Kirk pushed himself to his feet. "Yeah, I'm heading back too. I'll walk with you." He turned to face their companion. "Bones?"

McCoy shook his head. "I'm stopping by sickbay to check on a patient and then I don't want to be disturbed until 0755."

Kirk laughed and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'll consider it an order." He turned back to Uhura.

"Ladies first." He swept out a hand indicating that she should precede him and she glanced over her shoulder in time to see McCoy roll his eyes in response to Kirk's gentlemanly flourish.

"Don't fall for it, Uhura," the older man groused. "He just wants to check out your ass."

Kirk clapped a hand over his heart, his face a study of wounded innocence. "I'm hurt that you would even think that, Bones." He studied the knowing scowl on McCoy's face and the pursed lips and narrowed eyes on Uhura's and seeing the matching glint of mischief in both their eyes decided to play along.

"Fine," he said stepping in front of Uhura. "I'll go first and _you_ can check out my ass." And with a little twitch of his hips, he headed toward the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Leonard." Uhura smiled.

"Good luck, Lieutenant," he said, jerking his chin towards the departing figure of their captain.

Kirk waited at the door and ushered her through. They walked in companionable silence towards the officers' quarters, arriving at hers first.

"This is me," she said unnecessarily as she punched in the code to open the door. She stepped inside and turned to face him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He braced a hand against the door. "Do you… I don't know." He gave an awkward shrug of his shoulders. "Do you want to talk maybe?"

"About what? I'm perfectly fine." She arched her brows and shook her head. "I'm not sure why you keep asking…"

"Uhura," he said chidingly and waited.

She blew out an impatient breath and walked further into her quarters. "I really am okay," she insisted. She strode toward the small desk tucked into one corner of the room and, removing her earrings, dropped them into a crystal dish.

He stood a few feet away and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's just me," he told her kindly. "You don't have to pretend anything."

"I don't know what's wrong with me." She sighed and looked up to meet his gaze. "The thing is… I _am _over him. I mean… we really weren't going anywhere and ending the relationship was the smart thing to do and it's not like I'm in love with him any more, but I just… it just…" Her voice trailed off as she gave a frustrated sigh.

"It's just that it's difficult to see someone you care about interested in another," he finished.

"Yes." She was struck by the knowing look on his face. She cocked her head to one side and studied him closely. "You look like you've got first hand knowledge on this subject," she observed, surprise evident in her voice.

"Well, my experience is different than yours." Kirk tucked his hands into his front pockets and propped one shoulder against the wall. "Let's just say in my case that it was more a matter of not being _enough_ in the first place," he said cryptically. "But, yeah, I get the general concept of being…" He groped for the right word, "…off-balance when a person you care about is showing interest in someone else."

She nodded in agreement and sat down on the small sofa. "It's not that I don't want him to be happy. I _do_. It's just…" Again, her words trailed off. Irritated, she rubbed a hand over her forehead. For a woman with a love of words and language, not being able to communicate her thoughts was frustrating.

He flopped onto the sofa beside her and took her hand into his. "It's just that it's another nail in the coffin of that relationship," he murmured, again surprising her with his insight.

"Yes," she sighed. "The utter finality of it." She rested her head on the cushion near his shoulder and stared at the far wall. "Not to mention," she said with a touch of irony in her voice, "_I_ wanted to be the one to move on first. Show him that I'm a desirable woman who can get any man I want." She laughed at the absurdity of her statement even though it contained more than a grain of truth.

"You want me to plant a kiss on you right in front of him in the middle of the bridge tomorrow, just say the word," he offered magnanimously. A tiny grin flirted with the corners of his mouth.

She laughed. "You would do something like that for me?" she asked, wide-eyed and coquettish.

He leaned close. "Well, you know me… I'd do _anything_ for my crew," he murmured flirtatiously.

They grinned at one another but in a split second the atmosphere became charged as they grew conscious of their abrupt proximity to one another.

Uhura's gaze dropped to his wide, generous mouth and suddenly, more than anything, she wanted a taste. She closed her eyes against the unexpected flood of need and taking note of his shallow, quick breathing, was gratified to realize that he was equally affected.

"I should go," he whispered unsteadily.

"Stay." She curled one fist into the fabric of the gray t-shirt covering his torso and felt his heartbeat thud against the wall of his chest in response.

He lowered his head to hers. "He can't see us here," he reminded her, his lips brushing the fragile skin of her temple.

"I don't want you to stay because of him," she breathed. "I just want you." And it was true, she realized with a sudden start. The flirtation they had begun almost four years earlier in a bar in Iowa abruptly roared back to life. In that time she had watched women flock to this man and a long-simmering curiosity of what it was about him that drew so many into his orbit ignited.

She shifted, pressing her body lightly against his. "Kiss me." She curved one hand over his cheek so that their lips were but a hair's breadth apart.

"Be sure," he ordered, his breath feathering over her mouth.

In silent response, she exerted enough pressure until their mouths met. His lips glanced off hers in a tentative caress, but soon enough the explorer in him awoke and he set off to learn every inch of her mouth. He traveled to that spot where her lips formed a tiny bow and lingered there until he had memorized every curve before moving on to worry at the plumpness of her lower lip with tender nibbles of his teeth. His tongue darted out to tease the sensitive corners of her lips until her mouth parted on a breathless gasp and then the kiss went from gentle curiosity to insatiable hunger and she learned what it was to be the object of this man's unbridled desire.


	2. Chapter 2

Seeing Him

Chapter Two

Kirk broke away from the kiss intent on stopping whatever madness was consuming them, but then she looked up at him, eyes filled with desire _for him_ and he was lost. The culmination of what he had secretly wanted for years was within his reach and he was helpless to resist its lure.

He lowered his mouth to hers again and fought the urge to devour her in big, greedy gulps. Instead, he forced himself to slow the pace, to make this last so that if it was the only night they would share, it would forever be imprinted on them both.

His heart hammered a throbbing pulse in his blood and his hands moved to free her hair from its habitual ponytail. While her hands wrestled the hem of his t-shirt from the waistband of his jeans, he buried his face in the fragrant warmth of her throat. His mouth latched onto her delicate skin and his tongue darted out to flirt with the tiny hollow where her pulse frantically fluttered.

Uhura was mindless to everything but her need to get close to him. She pushed at his shoulders until he sat back against the cushions and swung one leg over him so that she was straddling his lap. They let out sounds of relief and frustration as their bodies strained against one another, with frustration being the clear winner.

He rose suddenly, taking her with him and she locked her ankles behind his back as he carried her the short distance behind the screen that separated the living area from the tiny bedroom. He lowered her onto the bed and stretched out beside her. Immediately, her hands slipped under his shirt, her fingers spreading wide over his warm flesh, kneading, stroking; trying to touch him everywhere at once.

His hands fumbled with the complicated lacings that served as the closure of her pants. "In my fantasies, you're usually wearing that short, short uniform," he growled dangerously. Frustrated, he threaded his fingers through the lacings and with a powerful twist of his hand tore them free with a satisfying rending noise. Uhura quivered as some primitive part of her responded to the controlled violence of his action. She shivered again as he shoved the torn material low on her hips and dropped his head to explore the sensitive skin of her belly and to dip his tongue into the hollow of her navel.

Her head rolled on the pillow as his lips blazed a path over her ribs and her bra was saved from the same rough treatment when she unhooked it herself with unsteady fingers. He cupped her breasts in his hands and admired how perfectly they filled his palms.

Uhura's back arched away from the bed as he lowered his mouth to her breast. He drew the tip of one peak into his mouth and lingered there, his lips moving cleverly over her flesh until she thought she would go mad with need.

She knotted her fingers in his hair and tugged until he looked up at her. Rising to her knees, she pulled him alongside her. She shoved at his t-shirt until she had pulled it from him while at the same time he stripped her shirt and bra down her arms and tossed both onto the floor. He yanked her against him and they let out twin groans of satisfaction at the contact of flesh on flesh. She looped her arms around his neck and reveled in the erotic feel of his hair-roughened chest lightly abrading the sensitive peaks of her breasts. His hands slipped beneath the loosened material of her pants to mold over the curves of her hips and buttocks, his fingers spreading wide and coming tantalizingly close her wet heat.

She rested her cheek against his. "Now," she whispered unsteadily

He nodded and the quiet of their embrace ended abruptly as they pushed and tore at the remainder of their clothing. Uhura shoved the pile of clothes to the floor and lay back against the pillows. Raising her arms invitingly, she beckoned him.

Kirk lowered himself into the welcoming cradle of her hips and they writhed against each other for a few pleasurable moments. He levered himself up onto his forearms and noted with a niggle of discomfort that Uhura's eyes were closed and her face was turned away from him. Her arms were flung over her head, her fingers opening and closing in concert with the languid pulse of her body against his. He slid his hands over her arms to wrap around her wrists and his movements stilled.

"Open your eyes," he demanded.

Uhura arched toward him, her legs locking around his hips as she tried in vain to end the slow agony of suspense.

"Uhura," he called to her. "Look at me."

She dragged open heavy eyelids and was struck that the commanding tone of his voice was at direct odds with the earnest look on his face. She knew immediately what he wanted and lifting her head from the pillow, brushed her lips over his.

"I know who you are, Jim," she assured him. "I know what I'm doing and I know who I'm with." She ran the soles of her feet over the backs of his calves and then locked her ankles around him once again.

His lips curved upward in a tiny smile and he released her wrists to lace their fingers together as he slowly, slowly joined his body to hers. A long, contented sigh escaped him when at last he was buried as deeply as possible within her and he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Uhura freed her hands and ran them over the smooth expanse of his back, enjoying the play of muscles under her fingers and the delicious stretch and fullness deep within her. She lifted her legs so that her thighs hugged his hips and the breath stuttered out of her lungs as the movement caused him to slide impossibly deeper. Her eyes fluttered closed and she gloried in the primitive sensation of female invaded by male; secure in the knowledge that the power was equally shared.

He levered himself onto one forearm and soon they fell into an exquisite rhythm. Their young, strong bodies rose and fell together in a steadily building pace and soon, sensation overwhelmed them both. She flung her head back, mouth open to suck in air as her heart and lungs burned from the ceaseless climb and struggle toward the release that was just out of her reach. His thumb swept a tender path over one nipple. The movement was so gently at odds with his otherwise fierce motions, so erotically different, and suddenly she was soaring, flying. Shock and pleasure warred for dominance as sensation radiated to her every extremity. And though her body wanted nothing more than to crumple into a heap of sated pleasure, she clung to him, holding him as his movements grew choppy and uncoordinated until he cried out and they both collapsed onto the bed.

Kirk buried his face in her hair and struggled to bring his breathing under control. Long moments passed and then finally he shifted his weight and slid away from her. Fumbling with one hand, he pulled the bedcovers over their rapidly cooling bodies and curled himself around her. She stroked one hand over his arm, enjoying his warmth and strength.

*************

She had been drifting, dozing in that pleasurable place between sleep and wakefulness when she felt his warm lips trailing a fiery path over the back of her neck.

"Mmm," she murmured. "What are you-?"

He cupped her jaw in his hand and turned her face toward his.

"Shh," he breathed as his mouth covered hers. Her moan vibrated against his lips as the tips of his fingers trailed across the satiny skin of her breast and skimmed over the soft swell of her stomach before settling on her thigh. He exerted gentle pressure to pull her leg back over his hip.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

Unable to speak, she gave a jerky nod and arched her back, opening herself to him and he groaned at her silent invitation.

Their joining this time was in stark contrast to their first and they rocked their way toward a release that was no less powerful for all its quiet intensity.

**********

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Uhura awoke early, her room bathed in a low, artificial light meant to simulate the filtered rays of Earth's morning sun. She curled comfortably close to the man sharing her bed and lifted a hand to thread her fingers through his thick hair, taking the opportunity to study him closely. In repose his features were relaxed in a way his waking energy never allowed. Her lips curled in a secret smile at the memory of how she had awakened him in the middle of the night with hands and lips and tongue and of the heady sensation of power that had surged through her when his strong body had trembled under her touch.

Kirk shifted in his sleep and nestled closer. Tenderness swamped her and she was sure she could feel her heart give a long, slow roll in her chest when her name escaped his lips on a soft sigh. He moved again, stretching his limbs and then finally his eyes drifted open and her heart stuttered as he graced her with a sweet, sleepy smile.

She was suddenly consumed with a desire to stay in this time, in this bed, with this man, forever.

Warning bells began clanging in her head and she scrambled from the bed, confusion and fear warring for dominance of her thoughts. She was not ready for this – did not want to feel this swelling of affection for him. She snatched up her robe from the foot of the bed and wrapped herself in its silken armor.

Baffled by her abrupt departure from the bed, Kirk pushed himself up onto one elbow. The covers slid low on his hip and Uhura felt the long, curling throb of her womb in response.

Lust, she told herself firmly as she drank in the sight of the lightly defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. You are not falling for James Kirk. She closed her eyes in automatic defense and belted the robe tightly around her waist.

She was distantly aware of his growing concern. He climbed out of bed, oblivious to his own nudity as he implored her to talk to him. Gathering his things, she shoved the bundle of clothes into his arms.

"Get dressed," she ordered as she spun out of the bedroom and into the living space of her quarters. She raised a trembling hand to her forehead and shoved the mass of tangled hair away from her face.

God, she moaned silently. This was such a huge mistake, she thought. Becoming involved with your commanding officer was bad enough, but when said officer was Captain James T. Kirk, notorious womanizer of this galaxy and the next… She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. How the hell was she supposed to work with him now?

She stiffened as she heard him enter the room. His hand fell on her shoulder and gave a gentle tug as he turned her to face him.

"Nyot-"

Her chin jerked up, eyes flashing and he took an automatic step back.

"Uhura," he amended, though his tone retained a gentle, pleading quality. "Please, talk to me."

He looked so confused and concerned and she felt her defenses soften in response. There was a wounded quality to him that made her want to gather him into her arms and soothe and she shook her head in an instinctive denial of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Falling for James Kirk would be just about the most self-destructive thing she could do, she told herself firmly. It had all made so much sense last night, she thought. But acting on impulse was not something that an ordered soul like Nyota Uhura did well and the fallout was never a pretty thing to behold. A night of passion between two mutually consenting adults had seemed perfectly logical at the time and she had been sure that she would be able to walk away the next day unfettered. She had not counted on being confused and consumed by roiling emotions the morning after.

She tried to summon a smile, but it wouldn't come. She need time to think, to figure out what to do next, but she couldn't do that while he stood before her with that pleading expression on his face. She needed him to go.

"Uhura," he entreated again as he stretched out his hand toward her but she jerked quickly out of his reach and paced toward the door. She engaged the security screen and noted the empty hallway with relief.

"The coast is clear," she said, eyes glued to the screen and tried to ignore the feeling of heat emanating from him as he crowded close to her back. "If you leave now, no one will ever know you were here."

She heard him suck in a quick breath at her words and closed her eyes against the wounded sound of it. She didn't want to hurt him; had spoken without thinking, but she needed him gone. Now.

Steeling herself, she schooled her features into an impassive expression and turned to face him.

"I'll see you on the bridge," she told him in a calm, emotionless tone.

She saw his hand lift toward her one more time before dropping uselessly to his side. He nodded abruptly, pride drawing him to his full height, the only sign of agitation in the way his fingers restlessly opened and closed in a loose fist which he rapped against the door controls, opening them with a pneumatic hiss.

He stepped into the hall and turned back to her.

"I-" His words died in his throat as he took in her appearance. Hair tangled from his hands curled wildly around her face and her lips were swollen from his kisses. His gaze fell to the reddish marks visible on the uppers swell of her breast inflicted during the long night by the rough stubble of his beard abrading her delicate skin. Following his gaze, she quickly shielded herself from his view by clutching the lapels of her robe closed with clenched fingers.

And yet, despite her disheveled appearance, she retained her natural elegance. She wore her dignity like a mantle; her back and shoulders erect, chin tipped upward, the only sign of vulnerability in the bare toes peeking out from beneath the hem of her robe. He wasn't sure why, but the sight of those toes painted a soft, girlish pink brought a lump to his throat and the prick of tears behind his eyes. He dropped his chin to his chest and took a deep breath before raising his head again.

"Lieutenant." His features were solemn, his tone formal.

"Sir." Her lower lip trembled once before her face smoothed into a stoic mask as she stepped back from the door and closed it between them.

A lifetime spent learning how to hide the depth of his true feelings behind a cocky exterior now stood him in good stead. He was sure he had heard an unspoken goodbye in her words and his chest heaved once, twice with repressed emotion.

And then, pivoting in a sharp about face that would have made his academy instructors proud, he strode determinedly to his own quarters.

*************

TBC

Author's notes: Thanks so much to everyone who has sent me a review or placed the story on alert. I appreciate it. One more chapter to go, I think.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Two chapters in one day. I actually have the fifth chapter written (more or less). It's taking a little longer to wrap this up than I had thought so it's looking now like six chapters total.

Chapter Four

The _Enterprise_ maintained a lazy orbit around the space station while waiting for the return of her captain and his first officer who had beamed down earlier in the day to meet with the station's commander to discuss the recent litany of complaints he had launched at Starfleet regarding delays in the shipment of supplies and other vital equipment. Though not in any way a re-supply vessel, Starfleet had directed the _Enterprise_ to make a stop at the station, hoping that by sending its flagship and her decorated and highly visible officers, the irate commander would see that Starfleet was serious about its commitment to maintaining its outposts – especially those so close to the Neutral Zone – in good order.

Like most department heads, Uhura was using the quiet time to catch up on her paperwork. Making notations on the reports submitted to her by the shift supervisors of the communications staff, she divided her attention between the documents she was reading and the subspace chatter coming through her earpiece all while another portion of her brain was ceaselessly reviewing the events of the last few days.

A little less than two weeks had passed since the night she spent with Jim Kirk. She had arrived on the bridge the next morning edgy and anxious only a few hours after he had left her quarters. Kirk had appeared shortly after as good-natured and upbeat as ever. The bridge staff fell into its customary routine and her fears that they would be unable to work together dissipated over the ensuing days.

But for all the ease and comfort of the familiar pace and banter that was the hallmark of Kirk's command style, the ball of tension knotted in her stomach did not loosen. Though she did not think anyone else was conscious of the changed dynamic between them, _she_ was now vastly aware of the captain's every movement in a way she had never been before and was hypersensitive to the fact that his eyes were often on her. Though his expression was always placid when he addressed her, she was sure that she caught flashes of emotion in his gaze running the gamut from icy politeness to heated memory to bitter disappointment. Though he was unfailingly professional and polite in his dealings with her, the teasing light was gone from his eyes and she knew that the friendship they had formed over these past months of duty together was forever lost.

Then again, maybe she was just projecting. Or imagining things.

She was drawn out of her reverie by the familiar chirping sound of a hailing frequency coming through her earpiece.

_Enterprise, this is Gamma Station. Do you read, Enterprise?_

Her hands flew over the console. "This is _Enterprise_," she responded. "Go ahead Gamma Station."

_We have an emergency_, came the agitated reply. _There's been an explosion in one of the research labs._

"How may we assist?" She spun around to catch Sulu's attention from his perch in the command chair and at his nod, patched the communication to the bridge speakers.

_We have a number of injuries…_

Uhura nodded in silent response, scribbling notes onto the PADD at her side as she prepared to forward the information to Sickbay.

._.. including Captain Kirk and Commander Spock._

Her heart slammed into her breastbone and she flashed a frightened look toward Sulu who had already slapped open a channel to McCoy.

_We've taken them to medical, but our facilities are small and Starfleet protocol demands that your ship's CMO be consulted on any treatment for her command staff._

She fought down rising panic. "Understood, Gamma Station. Dr. McCoy has already been alerted." She switched the call back from the speakers and lowered her voice. "Can you tell me how badly the captain and commander are injured?"

_I'm sorry_, the disembodied voice of the station's communication officer floated over her earpiece. _I don't have that information._

Telling her counterpart that she understood that things were chaotic, she assured him that a medical team from the _Enterprise_ would be arriving shortly and disengaged the call in time to hear McCoy's outraged roar and Sulu's attempts to calm him.

"We don't have much information," the lieutenant was explaining. "Just get a team together and head to the transporter room. Scotty will be waiting for you there."

"I'm on my way," the doctor growled. "McCoy out."

********

The wait for news from McCoy and the rest of the medical away team seemed interminable to Uhura and the rest of the bridge crew. Her fingers hovered over the controls of her console as though willing a transmission to come through and then suddenly, she heard McCoy's voice in her ear.

_McCoy to Enterprise. _

"_Enterprise_," Uhura said. "Go ahead, Doctor."

_Tell Christine to meet us in the transporter room with a gurney and transport chair. And tell her to bring…_

His voice trailed off for a moment as he was interrupted by someone on the space station.

_Sorry about that Enterprise. Tell her bring… tell her… Hell, just tell her to be there when we arrive._

"Anything else, Doctor?" She struggled to keep her voice even and professional.

_No. We should be ready for transport in about ten minutes. I'll be in touch. McCoy out._

She slumped back in her seat and scrubbed her hands over her face. She fought the urge to hail the doctor again to ask for more details on the injuries sustained by the two men.

She fidgeted in her seat, hating the overwhelming sense of helplessness. She needed to do something. Anything. She leapt from her seat and strode quickly toward the turbolift and then came to an abrupt halt. Spinning on her heel, her eyes met Sulu's pleadingly.

"Go," he said kindly as he motioned to a nearby ensign to take over the communications station.

She flashed him a grateful smile and disappeared into the turbolift.

Sulu turned to Chekov and raised his brows meaningfully.

"Spock is a lucky man," he sighed.

***********

James Kirk was barely aware of the tingling ribbon of energy surrounding him as he was transported from the space station to the _Enterprise_. His legs buckled under him as they materialized on the receiving pad. He would have crumpled to the floor were it not for McCoy's strong grip, and then the doctor was hauling him down the short flight of steps and towards the waiting gurney.

He turned his head away from the bright overhead lights and his breath caught in his throat as the transporter room doors opened to reveal Nyota Uhura racing inside, her ponytail streaming behind her. She came to a dead stop and their eyes locked for a moment before he was swarmed by medical personnel and lost sight of her. He craned his neck, trying to find her and his heart plummeted in his chest at the sight of her kneeling on the floor next to the medical transport chair in which Spock was now seated.

Kirk watched as she clasped the other man's hand between both of hers and dropped her forehead onto the knot of their joined hands. They were speaking but he was unable to make out their words over the bustle going on around him. He rolled his head away from the couple and stared instead at the far wall.

"How are you doing, Jim?" McCoy stepped into his field of vision.

"Hurts," he whispered in response.

"I know." Bones laid a warm hand on his friend's forehead and pushed the sweat-dampened hair away from his face. He held up a hypospray. "I can take care of that," he offered.

Kirk turned his head to expose his neck to the doctor, surprising his friend with his ready willingness to submit to the hypo and Bones's hands were uncharacteristically gentle as he administered the medication.

"There," he said, rubbing a soothing thumb over the injection point. "That's going to make you sleep and when you wake up the worst will be over."

Kirk closed his eyes and welcomed the warm spread of the drug as it drew him closer and closer to a blessed oblivion from pain both physical and emotional.

************

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

When he next awoke, Kirk was confused by his surroundings. He was obviously lying on a biobed but in a private room. Windows ran the length of two walls and he tried to push himself up onto one elbow so that he could see out but the pain shooting through his body at the movement sent him collapsing back onto the bed.

He fumbled at his side for the call button and held it down with his thumb, grateful when the door swung open almost immediately in response and a relieved smile tipped his lips upward when his friend's face appeared in the open doorway.

"Jim!" McCoy hurried to his patient's side and he immediately began to read the vital signs displayed on the overhead monitor.

"What's going on, Bones?" Jim asked urgently. "Why am I in quarantine?"

The doctor wrapped his hand around his captain's wrist, reassuring himself by touch that his friend's heart rate was as steady as indicated by the computer readouts.

"Not quarantine," McCoy corrected. "Isolation." He smiled and kept his fingers wrapped loosely around Kirk's forearm. "Your injuries were not life-threatening but nonetheless extensive," he explained. "Lacerations and plasma burns over a good percentage of your torso. Less on your lower extremities and face." He shrugged and patted a gentle hand on the other man's shoulder. "There's very little chance of infection, but I'm keeping you here to limit any risk."

"How long?" Kirk asked.

"How long have you been out? Or how long do you have to stay?"

The captain's lips twitched into a small smile. "Either. Both."

McCoy sighed. "I kept you under sedation for thirty-six hours while I worked on the most serious of the lacerations and burns," he said as he picked up a dermal regenerator from a nearby equipment tray. "I know how much you hate these things," he smiled kindly. "So I thought it best to let you sleep through the worst of it."

Kirk struggled again to sit up, succeeding this time with the doctor's help as he raised the bed. Once he was comfortably settled, he looked up to find McCoy making notations on his chart.

"So, I've been out for the better part of a day and a half," he said. "How much longer until you clear me?"

"Clear you for duty?" McCoy laughed. "Not for at least a week, though I imagine I'll be booting your sorry ass out of my sickbay sooner than that." He held up a hand to forestall the argument he saw forming on Kirk's face.

"Listen, I still need to take care of the more minor injuries. In addition to the burns and lacerations, you cracked a couple of ribs – _again_ – and you fractured your collarbone. Everything has been set but now it's up to your body to finish the healing process. And to do that, you need rest. Sleep and good food are the best things you can do for yourself."

Kirk chafed at the idea of being kept from his duties for a week, but he knew from previous experience that this was not an argument he would win today. In a few days he would try to wheedle an earlier concession from Bones, but for now he would accept defeat.

"How is Spock?" he asked instead.

McCoy turned to look through one of the windows and Kirk followed his gaze to find his first officer sitting up in his own bed.

"His injuries were much less extensive than yours," McCoy reported. "He apparently had preceded you down the hallway and your proximity to the blast resulted in the severity of your injuries." McCoy hugged the medical PADD to his chest and smiled. "I'm keeping him here one more day and then I'll send him back to his quarters for a day or two of rest but I expect that I'll be clearing him for duty by the end of the week."

"I see he's well enough for visitors."

Surprised by the scowl that crossed his friend's face, McCoy turned back to see what had caused it but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Lieutenant Uhura had arrived in Sickbay and was now perched on the edge of Spock's bed but the doctor was at a loss to understand Kirk's attitude.

"You mean Uhura?" McCoy asked. "She's been here on and off since the two of you were transported back from the space station."

"What time is it?"

Startled by the abrupt change in topic, McCoy glanced at the chronometer on the wall. "1100 hours," he told the other man. "Why? Do you have some other place you need to be?"

"No," Kirk grumbled bad-temperedly. "But she does." He jabbed a thumb toward the window. "Or has someone been reorganizing the duty rosters while I've been out of commission?"

McCoy's eyes narrowed in confusion over Kirk's outburst. A sudden thought occurred to him and he shook his head in dismay.

"Oh, Jim. What have you done?" he asked, dread in his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the younger man muttered as his fingers restlessly picked at the threads of the blanket covering his legs.

"Yes, you do," the doctor retorted as things began to crystallize in his head. "Uhura hasn't joined us after hours in the rec lounge in over a week," he realized. "And you've been more moody than usual, though I have to say you've been doing a good job of covering it up. Someone who doesn't know you as well as I do would have fallen for your act."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kirk sneered. "_You_ fell for it," he muttered under his breath.

But McCoy heard him anyway. "Oh, God. You didn't. You did!" He reached out and grabbed the other man by the shoulder. "You idiot! When are you going to learn to keep your hands to yourself?"

Kirk wrenched his shoulder away from the doctor's grasp and bit his lip as pain exploded through his abused body. McCoy apologized and lowered the bed so that his friend was lying down again.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Here." He poured water into a cup and held it to Kirk's lips. "Take small sips," he cautioned.

Kirk swallowed a mouthful of water and then pushed the doctor's hand away. He rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth, and his face when he tipped it up to his friend was a study in abject desolation.

McCoy sat heavily on the edge of the bed and laid a comforting hand on the younger man's chest. "Oh, Jim," he sighed and wrapped his fingers tightly around his hand. "If it helps any, she checks on you every time she comes into Sickbay."

Kirk's lips tipped upward in a travesty of his usual sunny smile. "Thanks, Bones," he whispered.

"It's going to be alright," McCoy promised with a glance toward the couple in the other room. "Everything will be alright."

Maybe if he repeated it often enough, it would be true.

*************

A/N: Again. My many thanks to everyone for their kindnesses whether it be putting this story on alert, adding it to your favorites or sending a review. It's an absolute thrill to know people are reading it and responding to it in some way.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I realized that what I thought was my final chapter was running really long and, frankly, this first section really is little more than a bridge to the end so I carved it away and have posted it here as a separate chapter. Technically it's not a longer story. It's just being split into more manageable portions. I'm taking my time with the final chapter – re-writing bits of it and trying to get the tone just right but here's a little something until then.

Chapter Six

Kirk used every weapon in his arsenal to gain an early discharge from Sickbay. He coaxed and cajoled, charmed and wheedled and even willingly submitted to every test and procedure McCoy subjected him to without complaint.

But in the end it was the relentless bombardment of badgering that ultimately gained him his freedom days earlier than the doctor would have liked.

"Fine!" McCoy exploded and threw his hands up in the air. "Go to your quarters and die there," he cried dramatically. "I don't care any more. Just get out of my Sickbay."

Kirk carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed and grinned at his friend. "Oh, you know you still care, you old softie," he laughed. "And I promise to be a good boy," he said. The smile slid away from his face. "Bones," he called to his friend pleadingly. "I just need some time alone, you know?"

McCoy grumbled under his breath and snagged a clean robe out of a nearby closet. "Put this on, you stubborn idiot."

Kirk reluctantly took the robe from him and curled his lip in protest. "Can't I just send someone to my quarters for a pair of jeans and a…" His voice trailed off under the searing gaze directed at him by the irritated doctor and he held his hands up in surrender.

"On second thought, I'll just put on this very comfy-looking robe and you can walk me to my quarters. How does that sound?" He tested out what he thought was a winning smile then quickly erased it from his face when he saw that McCoy was not buying it. "I promise I'll do anything you tell me," he said as he shrugged into the robe, careful not to reveal the pain he felt as he tugged the robe over his still mending collarbone and the itchy, tender stretch of skin on his chest, arms and back.

"You'll stay away from the bridge until I clear you?" the older man asked.

Kirk nodded docilely.

"You'll stay in your quarters – even for meals – unless I or my duly authorized surrogate comes to escort you elsewhere?" McCoy asked with suspicion bright in his eyes.

Kirk swallowed hard against the hated restrictions but nodded again in agreement.

"Cross my heart," he said, drawing an "X" over his chest in a centuries old pledge.

"Let's go you moron. Before I change my mind." And knowing that Kirk would hate to be seen by his crew being wheeled to his quarters like an invalid, McCoy adjusted his stride to accommodate the slower pace of the captain's still-healing body as they made slow progress towards his room.

**************

Uhura stepped into Sickbay the next day and looked around. Surprised to see the isolation room empty and neatly made up for the next patient, she made her way to the nurse's station.

"Hey Christine," she said softly to the woman seated there. "Where is he?"

Confusion evident on her lovely face, Christine Chapel looked up at her friend. "Mr. Spock was discharged yesterday morning," she reminded the other woman.

Uhura shook her head and craned her neck around to look over the room once more. "No, I meant the captain."

"Oh," the nurse responded, surprise etched on her face. "The doctor discharged him late yesterday evening."

"Discharged him? But…" Uhura spun away from the nurse's desk and stuck her head into McCoy's office.

"Hey, Uhura," he greeted with a smile.

"Hi. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." McCoy beckoned her into his office and waved at a hand at an empty chair. "Have a seat."

Uhura perched on the edge of the chair. "Christine tells me that you've released the captain."

He nodded slowly. "That's right."

"But, I thought that he… that is I thought his injuries were… I mean, is he okay?" Her face was composed but agitation was evident in the way she kept running a thumb over the seam that ran along the edge of her skirt.

"Oh, you know him," the doctor sighed. "He doesn't thrive in captivity." He smiled and lifted his hands in a helpless shrug.

She gave him a half-hearted grin and nodded. "Yes," she sighed. "I know."

She went back to her study of the hem of her dress. "Can I see…? I mean, do you think he'd like it if I…?" She took a deep breath, willing herself to speak in full sentences. "Is he allowed visitors?" she asked.

"I think company would do him good," he said soberly.

"Okay." She pushed herself to her feet and started for the door. "Thanks, Leonard."

"Nyota," he called, urgency evident in his voice as she turned back to face him.

"Don't…" McCoy rubbed a rough hand over his jaw. "Please, don't hurt him."

She leaned her back against the doorframe and clasped her hands tightly before her. "He told you?" she asked in a small voice.

"No," he smiled kindly. "He didn't say anything." His eyes fell to the reports littering the top of his desk and then he looked up at her again.

"I just… I know Jim Kirk pretty well," the doctor admitted. "And I'd like to think that I've come to know you and…" He fiddled with a stylus, tapping it against his desktop. "It's not obvious unless you're looking for it, but…"

She smoothed her hands over her uniform skirt and straightened her back.

"I'm not looking to hurt him," she assured the older man as she walked out of the room.

McCoy closed his eyes after she left and dropped his head into his hands. "You don't want to," he muttered worriedly. "But you didn't promise that you wouldn't."

**************


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jim Kirk stretched out on the sofa in the living space of his quarters, one arm flung over his eyes while he listened to an Earth sports update on the PADD lying on a nearby table. He was tired and the sofa was not terribly comfortable, but lying in bed in the middle of the day made him feel like an invalid.

Which he supposed he was, but still…

The door chime chirped and he sighed. Bones. Again. This was the price he paid for freedom.

"Come," he called and listened as the doors whooshed open and closed.

"Bones," he murmured from behind his arm. "I'm pretty sure that my blood pressure has not changed in the last hour. And didn't you say sleep was the best thing for me?"

"That certainly sounds like something the doctor would say."

Kirk mouthed a silent curse as he lowered the shield of his arm to cautiously study the woman standing before him. It had been two weeks since the last time they had shared a private conversation and given his mood, he held little hope that this one would end any better than the last.

"Lieutenant," he said warily as he struggled to sit up.

Uhura checked her natural inclination to help him when he flashed a warning glance at her. She waited until he was resting comfortably against the sofa cushions before she spoke again.

"I stopped by Sickbay to check on you and Leonard told me you were –"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said insincerely. "But aren't you supposed to be at your station right now?"

"I…" Her forehead knit in confusion. "I switched shifts with someone."

Kirk drew the mantle of his captaincy around him like a suit of armor. "You've been doing that a lot lately," he noted coldly.

She pulled herself erect, realizing that he was addressing her as her commanding officer. "Sir, I –"

"As a matter-of-fact, I've often seen you over the last few days visiting Sickbay during Alpha shift.

"Yes, sir. I –"

"You know, Mr. Spock and I spent a lot of time working on the duty rosters so that my best people would be on the first and busiest shift of the day, Lieutenant. And while I recognize that there are times and special circumstances under which a crewmember may need to switch his or her shift for their own reasons, it seems to me that you are taking advantage of your personal relationship with the ship's First Officer to manipulate the schedule to your benefit." He flicked his glance towards her and then away, dismissively. "Of course, I realize that this is not the first time that you used your personal relationship with Mr. Spock to change your assignment, but –"

Her head snapped back as though he had slapped her. "Stop it!" she cried, dropping all deference to his superior rank. "If I had been visiting _you_ in Sickbay, would you still have so many issues with my decision to change shifts?"

"Be careful, Lieutenant," he warned. "You are skating perilously close to the edge of insubordination."

"Due respect, _Captain_," she bit out. "But no matter how you might try to spin it, we both know that your problems with me are personal and not professional."

"Is this how you want us to play it? Pretend that night never happened?" she cried. "What? Do you really think I can continue to sit on that bridge every day and act as though I didn't kiss and caress every inch of your body and pretend that you didn't map out every bit of _my_ skin with your hands and mouth?" She thrust her chin forward challengingly. "Are _you_ going to tell me that you can forget that you came inside of me three times that night?"

He leapt to his feet and doubled over as shards of pain speared through his still healing body. She surged forward and braced her hands on his hips, steadying him until he caught his breath. As the pain eased he straightened and pushed her away.

"Are you joking?" he panted. "I'm doing what _you_ wanted!" He limped away from her.

"You think that _this_ is what I wanted?" she asked shrilly.

"I've been following your lead," he told her as he spun back to face her. "_You_ are the one who threw me out of your room that morning." He jabbed an accusatory finger at her. "I tried to talk to you. I wanted desperately to talk to you but all you cared about was getting me out of there before anyone discovered your secret." He stalked back and leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. "Before anyone found out that the elegant Nyota Uhura let Jim Kirk put his dirty hands all over her. And that you _liked_ it," he rasped in a mean whisper.

She shook her head violently. Tears brimmed along her lashes and she fought to keep them from spilling over. She laid a hand over her stomach, nauseated by the path the conversation had taken.

"I was afraid," she admitted. "And I did want you to leave. I would have said almost anything to make you leave," she told him. "But not for the reasons you think. God! Not because I was ashamed to have spent the night with you."

"If you leave now," he quoted her words from that morning verbatim, "no one will ever know you were here." His voice had taken on a dull monotone.

"I remember everything you said that morning," he told her. "I remember how you could barely bring yourself to look at me." He lowered his head as he spoke, his mouth inches from hers, his breath brushing her lips in a mockery of a kiss. "I remember how you practically pushed me out of the door. You were in a panic that you might have to endure the shame of other crewmembers finding out that you had lowered yourself to sleep with me."

He pulled back and cocked his head to one side as though struck by a sudden thought.

"My God! I am so stupid." He barked out a laugh as though amused by his own obtuseness. "You were in a panic that _one_ person would find out. You were afraid that someone would tell Spock."

She was crying openly now as she realized how badly she had hurt him and how her careless words may have destroyed any type of relationship they might have had. She'd been so consumed with her own whirling thoughts over these past weeks that she had not realized that he had leapt to the conclusion that her actions that morning had been motivated by shame at having been with him.

She looked into his face and saw the sneering coldness etched there and couldn't help but compare it to the sweet smile she remembered from that morning; the openness of expression on his face that had sent her heart lurching into panic and set the two of them careening down this path.

She had a sudden flash of memory then; could recall the ruthlessness he had displayed as he had pushed Spock to an emotional breakdown on the bridge of the ship during that first fateful voyage. He had done it then because he believed it necessary for the welfare of the ship and to save the Federation from further destruction. And she sensed now that he was using a similar strategy to break her and send her running because he was trying to protect himself from further harm.

The only problem with that tactic was that she was wise to him and she wasn't going down without a fight. She sucked in a deep breath. This was not how she had wanted this visit to go. She moved closer and moderated her tone, biting down on her own temper because she recognized now that his was fueled by hurt.

She took a deep breath to center herself. "You're wrong," she told him. "I was afraid. Not because I was ashamed to be with you, but because I was terrified of what I was feeling for you."

"Oh, please." His expression was filled with disbelief. "Stop it, Uhura. The one thing I could always count on from you was brutal honesty. Let's not change that now. I knew you were using me that night to get over Spock or, I don't know, maybe to get back at him for paying attention to another woman all night, but I wanted to believe otherwise and I let you convince me."

Suddenly all the fight drained from him and he flopped onto a chair. Exhausted, he covered his face with one hand. "I needed to believe that you wanted me the way I had always wanted you," he admitted. "But you just wanted that one night."

He expelled a long sigh and looked up at her. "I'm sorry," he told her, his face a mask of sorrow and regret. "I have no right to speak to you the way I have. You made no promises to me. You gave me no cause to believe that it meant anything more to you than just that night." He looked away and tried to pull the tattered remnants of his pride back into place.

"You don't have to worry about Spock," he told her. "He's my friend and you –" He paused and cleared his throat. "I… I hope we can get back to being friends and I don't… I wouldn't… I hope you know that I would never intentionally do anything to come between the two of you."

Uhura dropped to her knees in front of him and placed her hands on his legs.

"Please listen to me," she implored. "You don't understand." She licked her lips and cast her eyes to the ceiling as if imploring the heavens to help her. "I don't know how to make you understand what I was thinking or feeling that morning when I have such a hard time making sense of it myself," she confessed.

"But I think I should start by disabusing you of the notion that Spock and I are back together. We're not. Nothing has changed between us." She stared steadily into his eyes as she pressed the point home.

"I saw you," Kirk said. "Every time I opened my eyes in Sickbay you were sitting with him."

"I hardly think it was every time you opened your eyes," she protested softly. "But though I'm not in love with him any longer, I did once love him and I still care about him. He was injured and I was worried about him."

He accepted this with a moody jerk of his shoulders, and kept to himself the thought that not once had she sat by his side.

She paused to gather herself. She had to find the exact words or this would never be right. "That night was about a lot of things," she began. "At first, it was about needing to feel wanted again." She stared deeply into his eyes. "And from the moment we met in that bar in Iowa, you made me feel that way. So I thought, why not? He wants me and…" she hesitated before continuing. "I've always wondered what it would be like to be with you."

"But that night… no one has ever made me feel..." She lowered her chin, unable to look at him while she made her confession. "I felt vulnerable, yet powerful. Completely out of control of myself and yet able to make you tremble with only the slightest of touches." She closed her eyes at the memory. "I don't know how to explain it," she said, "but it was one of the most potent feelings I've ever had."

She kept talking, afraid that if she stopped, she would lose any chance of explaining herself.

"Then I woke up and, oh God. It was as if I was seeing you for the very first time. So sweet and gentle and so happy and I was just… scared. Because how could that last? We're so different. If it didn't work with Spock who, let's face it, is the type of man I've always been drawn to, how could it work with you?" she asked. "It was one thing to allow myself the occasional fantasy about being with the bad boy, but quite another thing to lie there thinking how nice it would be to just stay there with you forever. Forever!" She laughed incredulously. "And my brain started screaming no, no, no!"

She sat back on her heels but kept her hands on his legs and he was captivated by the look of open honesty on her face.

"I panicked," she admitted. "And I said things…" She pressed her fingertips to her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"I did push you out of that door. I _was_ worried that others would see you and know you had spent the night, because on top of my own overwhelming confusion I could not handle the idea of facing the prodding speculation of the entire crew. I was trying to protect myself and in doing so, I wound up hurting you. That wasn't my intention," she vowed. "But I know now that I did."

Her hands fell limply into her lap.

"And then, nothing was right. Our friendship was strained. I couldn't look at you without remembering what it felt like to kiss you and be kissed by you. From across the room, I would watch you speaking with someone and gesturing with your hands and all I could remember was what it felt like to have those hands moving over me."

She looked at him with the most bewildered expression on her beautiful face. "I was so confused because I couldn't stop wanting you but I just couldn't begin to imagine how it would work between us."

She stopped talking and they stared at one another as a long, tense silence spooled between them. She gnawed on her bottom lip, unsure of how to read his expression. His features seemed as though carved of stone and yet she thought she saw a hint of emotion in the depths of his blue eyes.

She drew in a deep breath and released it, willing herself to get it all out. To finish it and see where things fell.

"And then word came that you were injured and I was so frightened. I did my job but all I could think about was making sure that you were alright," she told him as she lifted wet eyes to his.

His handsome features were marred by the confusion etched in his expression. His eyes roved over every inch of her face, searching for the truth between what he heard her saying and what he had seen with his own eyes.

"You ran into the transporter room," he remembered.

"Yes."

"You wanted to be sure that I was alright?" he repeated slowly.

"Yes." She stroked her thumb over the knuckles of the fist he clenched in his lap.

"Which you did by… rushing to Spock's side?" he asked skeptically. "And sitting with him at every opportunity you had?"

Hope flared to life as she was struck by a sudden insight.

"You're jealous," she murmured, unable to stop a slow smile from spreading over her face.

"Don't," he said tightly. Vulnerability and anger warred for dominance of his expression. "Don't make light of this."

She nodded and rose on her knees again so that her face was once more level with his.

"I couldn't get to you," she told him solemnly. "You were immediately swarmed by Dr. McCoy and the medics and then after, you were kept under sedation." She pushed his knees apart and insinuated herself between them, each slow movement designed to bridge the gap between them.

"They kept you isolated. I couldn't get to you," she repeated. "But that doesn't mean I didn't care." She risked touching him more intimately and ran her hands over his torso. His face contorted and he couldn't hold back a hiss of pain as her short nails lightly scored a path from shoulder to belly.

"Oh God," she breathed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt…" She pushed up the soft cotton of his t-shirt and a mournful sound escaped her as for the first time she saw the evidence of the injuries he had suffered. Raised welts of newly healing skin crisscrossed his torso. She stroked trembling fingers over a particularly deep gash the marred the skin in the center of his chest and impulsively leaned forward to press an open-mouth kiss over his heart.

So close, she thought with a shudder. So close to losing him. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned her head and rested her cheek against his chest taking comfort in the solid warmth of him and the steady, reassuring thrum of his heart beneath her ear.

He stiffened in her embrace and then, the air escaping his lungs in a long hiss, he collapsed against her like a deflating balloon. He laid his cheek against the top of her head and pressed one hand against the small of her back, urging her closer.

"Do you remember what we talked about that night?" he murmured into her hair. "I told you a story about a girl I cared about and how I had to watch her find love with someone else?"

She nodded, dreamily half-listening to his quiet murmur as she nestled closer.

"I never had a chance with her because she didn't see me." He nudged her chin up with his fingertips so that he was staring directly into her eyes as he finished the story. "That girl was you, Nyota. I've been halfway to falling in love with you ever since."

Stunned by the power he had given her over him with his confession, she blinked slowly. One tear spilled over her lashes and she nestled her cheek into the palm of his hand as he stroked the dampness away with his thumb.

"I see you, Jim," she said at last and leaning forward, pressed her mouth to his to seal the vow.

Her lips trembled against his in a chaste kiss and then she slid her arms around his neck and the tone and texture of their kiss deepened. The room was silent save for the sound of her muffled sigh as his tongue plunged into her mouth; his groan as she scraped her teeth over the exposed length of his throat and their twin murmurs of need as restless hands were in constant movement; her fingers spearing in his thick hair to hold him steady for her kisses; his hands roving over her back, molding her closer and closer to him.

He tore his mouth away and tipped his head back, his chest heaving as he struggled to pull oxygen into his starved lungs. She buried her face in the warm column of his throat and marveled at the growing need in her for him, the aching desire to somehow crawl inside of him and never leave.

Long moments passed as they brought their breathing under control and finally she eased back so that she could once again see his face. The power of the moment coiled between them and she cast about for a way to relieve the intensity before it snapped.

She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks, enjoying the bristle of his days-old stubble beneath her hands.

"I have to go to work," she finally whispered. "If I'm late, my captain will be very angry," she said.

"I wouldn't want to get you into trouble," he responded to her teasing smile.

She brushed her lips over his in a last kiss and pushed herself to her feet.

"I'll see you later?" she asked tentatively.

"Maybe we can have dinner together after your shift."

"I'd like that," she said with a shy smile.

"There's only one problem," he said. She frowned at the serious tone of his voice. "I'm not allowed to leave my quarters," he explained. "We'll have to have dinner here. Alone."

She fought to keep her expression somber. "Well, I know how much of a stickler you are for following doctor's orders." She braced her hands on the arms of his chair and took his mouth in a lingering kiss.

"As I recall, you mentioned that the doctor ordered you to get a lot of rest." She cocked her head to one side thoughtfully and crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe I should check with him before I even consider coming back here tonight." She gave a sassy toss of her chin, her ponytail snapping with her movement as she made her way to the door.

"Oh, you'll be back," he called confidently as the doors hissed open. She waggled her fingers at him in a teasing farewell and was enormously pleased to see the familiar cocky grin that wreathed his face.

He didn't need to know it at that moment, but he was right.

She would be back.

End

A/N: That's it, folks. Again, my gratitude for the very generous response of the readers to this story. Writing for writing's sake is fun. Having people take the time to let you know they enjoyed your writing is icing on the cake. Thank you so much. I had the basic concept of the ending in mind from the moment I started mentally composing the story but was hard-pressed to get the emotions and characterizations right. I hope I succeeded.


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